


Of Illness and Luck

by vicalily



Series: KuroTsuki Festival Week! [8]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Hospitals, M/M, Scars, Sick Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 07:24:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15238356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vicalily/pseuds/vicalily
Summary: Kei is stuck in the hospital when he meets Kuroo, somebody who's just as scarred as he his.





	Of Illness and Luck

Stargazing | Soul mates | **Scars**

Tsukishima had more scars than he ever cared to think about. Every life-saving surgery performed cut a piece of him away, replaced with metal or foreign tissue, and soon there’d be more substitute than original Kei.

He was ill, had been since birth, and every time he was forced into unconsciousness he would snatch a few more months from Death’s clutches. Sometimes he wondered if it was worth it. Sometimes he knew it wasn’t.

When he wasn’t anesthetised, he was prodded with needles and hooked up to a small family of machines. They had been with him so long they might as well have been, in fact he may have named them as a child, but he couldn’t remember. He was having more blank spots in his memory recently, and a small part of him hoped desperately it was a sign of the end in sight.

At the beginning his parents had been confident he would be cured through medicine, and he believed them. The years turned on and his parents hoped he would be cured through divine intervention, and he quietly lost hope. By 15 they were grateful for all the time they’d had together, and he agreed, but there was still an obvious reluctance to let go on their part.

Tsukishima’s doctor had suggested a hospice at one point, but that suggestion was met with shouted hostility. It took Akiteru’s level tone to soothe their anger and remind their parents it was a valid option, but even then the air between them was strained. What could he say, to make them understand? It wasn’t worth him living if all he did was lay in bed, staring out the window, hooked up to a drip.

He used to play volleyball when he was younger, and sometimes he wished he still did. It might fill the hours, get him out of the hospital, let him feel fresh air in his lungs, sweat dripping down his face, and his heart pounding loudly in his ears. He missed it.

There was a knock at his door and a sheepish looking nurse poked her head in the door. She looked familiar so Tsukishima lifted his lips in a tired smile. “Hello.”

“Good evening, Tsukishima.” Her voice was polite but cheerful.

His mother lifted her head from the book she was reading, a quizzical frown pinching her brow. “Is Kei due a blood test already?”

The nurse shook her head, a fond smile spreading across her face. “Actually we’ve a favour to ask of you.”

Tsukishima frowned. “We?”

The nurse opened the door wider and by her side was a teenaged boy with wildly spiked black hair, a lazy grin and sharp eyes. He stared at Kei and his grin widened, but it faltered slightly when listless eyes stared back.

The nurse gestured to the boy. “This idiot would like to ask you something.”

“How very rude! I am your patient, you know.”

“You haven’t been my patient for years, Kuroo-chan.” She sighed heavily, obviously it was a recurring joke.

“And we’re going to keep it that way so-“ he turned to face Kei and lowered himself into a bow “-may I look at my scans in here?”

Kei looked at him blankly, he didn’t really care, but it would be a pain to move his army of machines. “Do you want me to leave?”

Kuroo snapped out of his bow and waved his hands wildly. “No, no, I just need to be in the room for the magic to work.”

Kei shrugged, then wished he hadn’t, pain spiking between his shoulder blades like a knife being pushed into his skin. He winced quietly, so his mum turned up the morphine on his drip. He smiled at her gratefully, then turned to face Kuroo, who was frowning at him.

“Go ahead.”

Kuroo thanked him and perched on the edge of Tsukishima’s bed, taking great care not to jostle his legs. The nurse sighed loudly.

“What have I said about jumping on people’s beds?”

Kuroo opened his mouth to reply, but Kei beat him to it. “A serial offender, are you?”

Kuroo grinned. “Only when the patients are cute.”

Tsukishima snorted quietly, and Kuroo smirked.

“Nothing to say?”

“Only: Good luck.” He said casually.

Kuroo tilted his head curiously, his eyes lit up in anticipation. “Good luck?”

“If you’re suffering from such intense delusions, I fear for your test results.”

Kuroo crackled loudly, and Tsukishima was so enraptured (horrified?) he failed to notice his mother and Kuroo’s nurse creeping out of the room, smiling quietly.

They both quietened eventually, gazes drawn to the large white envelope placed between them. Kuroo made no move to pick it, and Tsukishima made no move to encourage him. If Kuroo wanted to procrastinate, he was well within his right, but Tsukishima wanted Kuroo to know he wasn’t alone.

“What will the results show?”

Kuroo’s gaze met his, far more solemn than earlier, the eyes of someone who knew suffering.

“Whether or not I’m still cancer free.”

“How long?”

“How long have I been in remission?”

Kei nodded, because sometimes words weren’t big enough.

“Three years, almost exactly. I found out in this room, so now it’s my lucky room.”

He paused, fidgeting with the envelope and glancing up at him every few seconds. Tsukishima sighed, he knew that look.

“Out with it.”

Kuroo jumped guiltily and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Will this-“ he broke off and started again, looking studiously at the bed covers. “Could this be a lucky room for you too?”

Tsukishima shook his head. “No amount of luck is going to help me, I’m... dying.”

He had never said it out loud before, and it felt good to finally vocalise what they all knew was the truth.

Kuroo nodded, because sometimes words weren’t big enough.

They fell quiet again, but Kuroo seemed to have worked up the nerve to open his results. He pulled out some photographs and a typed document, mouthing the words as he read. The grin spread across his face could be nothing but good news. He slid cautiously off the bed before turning back to him.

“Can I...?” He mimed wrapping his arms around someone.

Kei’s mother would have said no, but she wasn’t here and the only time people touched him was when they were taking blood or cutting him open. He would never admit it out loud, but he ached for a hug.

“Please.” His voice cracked pathetically.

Kuroo slid his arms gently around Kei, pulling himself in until their heads rested side by side. When Kei’s mother returned she went unnoticed by Kei and Kuroo, wrapped up in each others arms. A small part of her worried for her son, but a larger part noted how happy he was, and so she left it be.

Kuroo visited a lot more often after that, every week, sometimes twice. Kei lived for the days he dropped by, and tried to be energetic, but when he was tired and didn’t want to see anyone, Kuroo understood what he needed.

Sometimes they talked, no topic out of bounds, or Kei crushed Kuroo at board games (the upside to spending your life indoors is that there’s a lot of time to play board games), one time they had a scar-off. Kuroo had a pretty long one starting from his elbow and wrapping round his arm to his wrist, but yet again Kei won with his puckered scar from when doctors had to open his chest to restart his heart.

Kuroo had run his finger along it and Kei felt a shudder slide down his spine

Soon it was time for another surgery, which would hopefully make moving a little less painful. He still wouldn’t be able to walk, that ship had sailed long ago, but the metal plates would support his bones for easier movement.

Kei had talked to Kuroo about it, saying words he didn’t dare speak out loud with his family.

“You ready for surgery?”

Tsukki wasn’t feeling his best today. When Kuroo had first come in he had snapped at him to leave him alone, but Kuroo had placed a swift kiss on his temple, and sat down to play cards. He always knew what Kei needed, but the surgery was out of Kuroo’s hands, even if he knew that what Kei really wanted was to go home without his machines, and slip away quietly, he couldn’t overrule Kei’s parents' decision.

Kei shook his head slowly, and when he spoke, the words clawed at his aching throat. “There’s a small part of me that hopes I won’t wake up this time.”

The words were quiet but they felt so loud.  
There was a heavy silence after he spoke, and not because Kuroo couldn’t relate, but because he could. Kuroo had been in his position more than once, and was the first person to tell him it was okay to be sad. You couldn’t be strong and hopeful all the time.

Soft lips pressed against his forehead, then they continued their card game as if it had never happened, but Kei knew he had been heard.

Kuroo always listened.

The surgery went ahead, Kuroo was there when he went under, and when he woke up. Kei thought maybe there was something worth living for after all.

A couple of days later he felt it.

A sense of finality settled in his bones, his breathing was easier than it had been in years, the near constant pain was dulled, and he simply knew. It was time.

Kuroo knocked on his door. Kei could always tell it was Kuroo.

He stuck his head in, grinning, but when he saw him it receded like the tide. His gaze flicked over to Kei’s mother, asleep in her chair, then back to Kei, a silent question. He shifted his head minutely to the side. No.

Kuroo stepped in closer, his smile sad, his eyes glassy. “What do you need, Kei?”

His voice was so small, a whisper. “Outside, please.”

Kuroo’s voice was almost as small. “Okay.”

Somehow Kuroo knew how to turn off all the machines, and gently remove the needles and tubes as well. He had been with him for almost a whole year now, he probably noticed what the nurses did. He was always so observant.

Kuroo picked him up easily, strong where he was weak, and Kei left his room for the first time in months, curled against Kuroo’s chest.

The nurse at reception should have stopped them, but there was no one there. Perhaps everyone knew it was time for Kei to leave.

Kuroo took him to the hospital gardens. There were flowers and the sky was blue and he didn’t notice any of it because all he could feel was air in his lungs, and all he could see was Kuroo.

He was about to be set down on the grass, but he grasped weakly at Kuroo’s t-shirt. “You.”

So Kuroo lay down, pulling Kei onto his chest as he did, his head resting comfortably over Kuroo’s steady heartbeat.

Kuroo could feel sharp bones digging into his skin, hair grazing his shoulder, and Kei’s ragged breathing gently swelling his chest. Kei mumbled something softly, dry lips whispering over his heart and Kuroo choked.

“I love you too, Kei.”

But Kei was already gone.

**Author's Note:**

> That was supposed to be happy. I don't know what just happened.


End file.
